


Genji Shimada - Oni

by MDidact (SaigonTimeMD)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Evil, Blood, Bloodplay, Cutting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Ninja, Other, Rape, Swords, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:19:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaigonTimeMD/pseuds/MDidact
Summary: In an alternate universe where notorious playboy Genji Shimada was resurrected by the Shimada Syndicate instead of Angela Zeigler, the young assassin has become a bloodthirsty killer - but his taste for violence, rather than dimming his libido, has corrupted it.





	

                Jake squinted as the flash on his camera lit up the darkened street, completely ruining the shot of the neon Rikimaru sign against the night sky. He cursed under his breath and fiddled with the settings, switching the auto-flash off, then tried the shot again. This time he got the shot he wanted; the giant, glowing lizard mascot, its long tongue hanging out cartoonishly as it drooled over the ‘Tastiest Ramen in the World.’ Jake smiled and went to take another shot for good measure, but a noise from one of the pitch-black alleys startled him. It was quiet, deathly quiet; the streets were empty, the stores locked up tight as tombs, and every window darkened whether the occupant within was asleep or not. The last person he’d seen was some homeless vagrant sleeping on a bench, but that had been nearly an hour ago, and safely outside the Hanamura district’s boundaries at that. Hanamura was a ghost town.

                _//Target identified: Jake McNamara_

_//Nationality: American [New York, New York]_

_//Profession: Photagrapher [Freelance]_

                He had barely paid attention to the warnings from the daytime tour guide not to go to Hanamura after the sun went down, but he’d done his research before arrival, thinking it would prepare him for what was to come. It was an open secret that the district was home to the Shimada Syndicate, the most notorious criminal empire in Japan, so he naturally assumed that the place would come alive at night, crawling with all sorts of interesting characters desperate for some sharp, glossy black-and-white shots. He was wrong. The Shimada compound was closed off the same as every other building, and the entire district felt like a graveyard. No character shots that night, Jake thought, just neon signs and moonlight; it wouldn’t earn him any magazine spots, but at least his Instagram feed would be well stocked in the coming weeks. The camera clicked again, and the noise felt like an insult to the silence.

                _//Blood Type: B+_

_//Height: 1.96m_

_//Weight: 81.6kg_

                _//Heart Rate: 76bpm_

                For another few minutes he made the best of a bad situation, trying to capture the eerie shadows and dissonant neon signs without reverting to amateur shadowplay, but as he spent more and more time in the obstinately quiet alleys, a troubling thought began to blossom in the back of his mind: the idea that he was not, in fact, alone, but was being followed – or at least watched – by someone else. Jake was used to spectators while he was taking pictures, but these were much different circumstances than usual; a gentle breeze felt like phantom fingers, a soft echo from an alley sounded like some awful siren call, and a soda can rolling lazily out from a deep shadow filled him with dread. The night air was cool, but Jake was starting to sweat, and his grip was getting shaky. Why were all the stores and homes closed up at 7 in the evening? What were they hiding from? He tried to remember the earlier warnings he’d ignored with more clarity, but the only bits that returned were something about a string of assaults and a shadow that moved on its own.

                _//Endowment: 12.7cm flaccid : 20.9cm erect [ESTIMATE]_

_//STD History: Clear_

_//Heart Rate: 93bpm_

                Pausing in the street, he flipped back to the beginning of his film roll on the camera’s interface; his desire to get great shots had finally lost out to his desire to get the hell out of there, but he still wanted to make sure the time had been worth it. Peering at the first shot, he noticed something, a small detail he hadn’t caught the first time: two tiny red dots peering out from a side street, too fluorescent to be a human, but too tall to be a nocturnal animal. He flipped to the next shot and saw them again, this time looking down from a small black bump on a rooftop. Next shot. There they were. Next shot. Same. Next shot. Same. Always in different places but always there, as if watching—

                Jake started to scroll faster and realized, to his horror, that not only were they in every single shot, but they increased in size each time.

                Whatever it was had been getting closer to him.

                _//Heart Rate: 110bpm_

                He flipped to the final shot and saw them just underneath an awning, two bright red dots with visible black irises; it couldn’t have been five feet away from where he’d taken the picture and yet he’d seen nothing in that moment.

                _//Heart Rate: 124 bpm_

_//Target panicking_

                A shuffling sound caused Jake’s head to shoot up and look forward, just in time to see the red dots leering at him from the blackness within. His hands shaking, Jake brought the camera to his face and pushed the button.

                In the span of a single click, the shadow with the burning eyes shot out of the alley, driving its sword through the camera until the carbon blade just brushed the photographer’s face, the tip drawing a single drop of blood from his cheek. The high-frequency blade flipped to the side, scattering Jake’s bisected camera onto the ground where it sparked impotently. An armored foot kicked out and sent the tourist flying backwards, skidding to a halt on the street as he clutched his ribs in pain. The shadow sheathed the carbon blade upon its back with one smooth, practiced movement, and approached the curled up photographer on the ground.

                Through ache-blurred vision, Jake could see the shadow was not really a shadow at all, but a man – or at least something humanoid. His assailant wore black-armored sandals that rose up into baggy, knee-length pants with intricately weaved designs in the fabric, held in place by a large silver belt, the buckle of which sported a glowing kanji that Jake didn’t recognize. The attacker’s upper torso was made up of black/grey segmented armor plates and ominous red lights, and its arms were covered in spikes the same color as the body illuminators. A scarf wrapped around its neck and head, framing a striking white mask in the traditional Japanese ‘Oni’ style; the ruby eyes stared ahead with directionless malice, and the open mouth could’ve been a grin or a growl – or both. It – or _he_ , as the attacker’s flat chest seemed to indicate – looked like a cyborg ninja out of a science-fiction movie; a science-fiction _horror_ movie, anyway.

                The masked ninja planted his foot squarely on Jake’s groin, and the photographer whimpered.

                “You will suffice,” the attacker stated blankly. The voice was higher-pitched, but vaguely masculine; it was difficult to tell through the mask’s electronic filtering.

                “What? Who are—” Jake started, but the ninja’s cold, armored fingers closed around his mouth before he could get a fourth word out.

                “Scream as you will, but do not speak to me.”

                The metallic hand dropped to Jake’s abdomen, where it roughly gripped the waistband, and Jake couldn’t stifle a yelp as the chilly metal scrapped against his side. The servos and synth-muscles inside the ninja’s arm hummed into motion, and – in one move – he ripped Jake’s pants off: belt, jeans, underwear, and all were torn away with equal ease, leaving him squirming and bare-assed on the cold concrete.

                “Help! Somebody help!” Jake screamed, but the night was mercilessly silent.

                “You waste your breath, _gaijin_ ,” the ninja coldly taunted. “You will need it soon.”

                Before Jake had any time to ponder the ninja’s ominous words, the sum of his thoughts were immediately bent to his now-freezing groin as his attacker’s metal-plated claw closed around his limp cock and began to jerk it roughly. He grunted in pain at the clumsy, mechanical stimulation, and tried to wriggle away, but the ninja’s grip was inescapable. After a few more moments of struggle, the masked assailant pivoted on his knees and planted a foot on Jake’s chest, easily holding him in place. Jake used both his hands to try and push the foot off, but all of his strength (not to mention the angle of leverage) was meaningless, and the ninja’s foot remained as if it had been bolted to his chest. He thought he heard the ninja laugh, but the laughter quickly turned into a frustrated growl.

                “You disappoint me, _gaijin_ ,” he remarked, glaring at the still-limp cock in his hand.

                “You’re hurting me!” Jake choked out. The ninja’s foot shot up from Jake’s chest, shoving his head to the side and pressing it painfully against the concrete. “Sorry, no talking! No talking!”

                The cyborg growled impatiently, but shifted his grip nonetheless, moving farther up Jake’s limp penis, holding it a bit more gently, and slowing the stroke rate. The metal had finally begun to warm to Jake’s flesh, and after a few more seconds of easier stimulation, his body started to respond in a more satisfactory manner: blood began to flow into his cock, and soon the ninja’s black metal hand was slick with precum from the stiffening prick, adding lubrication to each stroke. Jake, terrified out of his mind as he was, moaned reflexively after a particularly slow stroke, and he heard the ninja’s cold, electric laughter again; his face burned in shame as he realized he was getting off to at least part of this whole nightmarish experience.

Just as he actually started feeling the pleasure, the ninja released him, leaving the 8 (and a quarter) inch cock upright in the evening air. Jake was almost tempted to ask why, but he saw his attacker rise to his feet and press a series of glowing red buttons on his wrist. The patterned pants dropped to the ground, released from the glowing red belt, and revealed the ninja’s black, armor-plated groin. Another few button presses and a mechanical whirr-click sounded from the central crotch panel; the ninja reached down and tossed it away carelessly.

                A mixture of fear, curiosity, and desire kept Jake still ( _and_ hard) as the ninja straddled him; the photographer’s eyes were drawn to the meeting of his attacker’s thighs. From the voice and appearance, he had assumed his attacker to be male, but the distinct shape of the aperture that had been concealed by the groin plate was distinctly female in both construction and conceivable function: obsidian skin, a tight slit with slightly puffy lips, and a faintly red-glowing clitoris, it was the most perfectly-shaped pussy Jake had ever seen – and, being a photographer, he’d definitely seen a few in his time.

                “You’ve got a… but you’re…what _are_ —”

                “I am what I am,” the ninja replied sternly, as if sensing the theoretical end of his victim’s sentence and cutting it off at the pass. “And what I am is annoyed.” The ninja tore his katana from its sheath and slashed it across Jake’s chest, slicing through his shirt and leaving a thin, red, skin-deep trail across his pectoral muscles. The blade returned with a hiss and a click. “Speak to me again and the next cut will be deeper.”

                Without waiting for further protest, the ninja quickly dropped to his knees and began to sink down onto Jake’s erect prick. Both men moaned as the photographer’s cockhead slipped inside after only a moment of resistance, and Jake’s mind swam as he tried to understand what exactly was happening. The ninja’s insides were warm and wet with some scentless lubricant, but also strange: both the clearly synthetic texture and the unnaturally segmented embrace of the inner walls reminded him of an Omnic model he’d once dated, but he’d never met an Omnic who looked or acted like this. As the ninja slid down his cock further and further, Jake felt a massaging sensation, as if sets of fingers on all sides of his prick had begun to squeeze and flex, tightening and releasing randomly, and it caused his hips to jerk up reflexively, quickly shoving another inch or two inside.

                “Ah, you are an eager one,” the ninja gasped, suddenly breathless. “It is necessary in life to learn one’s place.”

                Jake covered his face with his hands but couldn’t stifle his own groan as the ninja completed his descent, taking all eight inches to the hilt. Barely a moment later, the ninja leaned back, bracing himself on Jake’s ankles, and began to grind his hips forward and backward, and from side to side. Jake’s finger’s scraped futilely against the concrete, but the idea of escape was fading further and further from his mind; he told himself that if he somehow got free and ran, the masked rapist would just cut him down, but in truth that was only part of it. In truth, the ninja’s pussy, artificial or not, felt amazing – better than anything else Jake had ever stuck his dick in, anyway. If he cooperated, Jake thought, then maybe, just maybe he might get away alive – and get off at the same time. The ninja quickened his pace, and Jake’s thoughts snapped from the theoretical to the immediate.

                “Much better, yes,” his attacker moaned, “So much better…than locals…local men are so small…but you, _gaijin_ , you so big.” Noticing the ninja’s already-halting English was deteriorating, Jake made his play and began to move his hips against his attacker’s, enhancing both their pleasure. The inner walls of the ninja’s artificial pussy began to squeeze and release as one, and Jake suddenly felt the edge approaching much quicker than he had anticipated. The ninja, for his part, threw back his head and ran his hands over his metal chest, groaning loudly, lost in the sensation. Trying his best to think about baseball – or the high-frequency blades bouncing on his attacker’s back – Jake started to piston his hips up, thrusting directly into the ninja’s weakspot. The ninja’s voice rose in response, and his back arched with an electric hum.

                “ _Motto! Motto! Hayaku!_ Yes! _Hai!_ ”

                Suddenly, the ninja unsheathed his shorter sword and swung forward, bringing him face to face with the now-terrified Jake, the blade a centimeter away from his neck.

                “You are clever, _gaijin_. More clever than I first believed,” the ninja chuckled, catching his breath, the desire still ragged in his voice. “Other men just lie there, but you…you work for it.” He dragged a cold, steel finger across the cut in Jake’s chest, collecting the thin line of blood, and put it in the mask’s ferocious mouth, as if tasting him. Jake squirmed. “You wish to see tomorrow, you will work for it. Fuck me, _gaijin_. Now.”

                “Wh—” Jake stuttered, but the ninja twisted the sword under his neck, flashing the moonlight off of its red blade while still not actually touching him. The intent was clear enough. Carefully, Jake bent his legs and began to thrust up into the ninja’s cybernetic body. He was strangely thankful for the brief pause because it had given him a chance to recover and recede from the edge of orgasm, and he didn’t want to think about what might happen if he came before his attacker did.

                “Mmm…yes, very good,” the ninja hummed, and put his forehead on Jake’s chest, looking down at his victim’s thrusting hips. “So wet…so big…you must be very popular back in America.” Jake wasn’t sure what kind of lubrication system the ninja had in place, but it was fully activated; every thrust was a loud, wet slap or a muffled squelch that was almost louder than their breathing. A glint caught Jake’s eye and he saw the ninja’s grip on the sword loosen. “Very, _very_ good.”

                The ninja took the blade and drove it into the concrete next to Jake’s head; the sword sank into the road like a hot knife slicing through butter, showing just how sharp it truly was. Now with both hands free, he gripped the photographer’s shoulders, metal fingers digging painfully into his flesh. The servos and gears inside the hands whirred with effort, and Jake realized that the hands weren’t armored at all, but in fact completely mechanical. What _was_ he?

                “You are…not safe yet, _gaijin_ ,” the ninja huskily whispered into his ear. “If you cum first, I will take that blade and slit your throat.” Jake squinted his eyes shut and began to fuck for his life, rapidly hammering up into the ninja’s wet synth-pussy; the caressing walls were all but ignored as the panicking photographer dove straight for quantity of thrusts over quality, but it paid off. The ninja’s voice rose in a long moan that modulated in time with Jake’s fucking, and the little red light on his clit began to blink rapidly. The mechanical fingers broke the skin above Jake’s arms, but he didn’t care; he thought of every awful thing he could to last longer, but he was already teetering on the precipice, even with the ninja’s sword hanging over him metaphorically.

                In a bold, all-or-nothing play, Jake grabbed the ninja’s segmented, boyish hips and used them as additional leverage, pulling him down onto his cock with each thrust. The ninja, surprised at first, temporarily released Jake’s bleeding shoulders before digging his fingers into the concrete at either side of the photographer’s head, bracing himself as his back began to arch again. His voice devolved into a meaningless string of ‘ _motto’_ s and ‘ _hayaku_ ’s as human need overrode his circuitry, and Jake, eyes still tightly shut, whispered a prayer to anybody who was listening.

                The red lights on the ninja’s body flickered, then shone twice as bright as the orgasm hit him, and he jerked and twitched over Jake, grunting and groaning like an animal. His hips seemed to move on their own, gyrating against Jake’s crotch, and his artificial pussy began to vibrate rapidly in response to the orgasmic stimulus. Unable to hold against the vibrations, Jake came with a yell of both fear and ecstasy, his semen gushing into the cyborg’s waiting canal, shooting out in hot, sticky, white globs. His pleasure was magnified as the panels behind synthetic cocksleeve tightened and released from the base to the tip, milking every drop of cum out of him and delivering it into…well, wherever the ninja kept bodily fluids.

                Jake’s eyes blinked open in time to see the ninja retrieve his blade from the concrete and stagger to his feet, spunk still dripping from his now slightly-gaping pussy. Still periodically shaking, he clumsily pulled his pants back on, and dropped the discarded groin plate into a deep side pocket. Exhausted but alive, Jake tried to crawl away, but his attacker, still a highly-trained cyborg ninja, grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to his feet.

                “Come back again, and I will be waiting,” he growled, sounding not just a bit drunk. Only when they were standing did Jake realize how much shorter the ninja was than him – not that it would’ve made him seem less scary. “Perhaps you will not be so lucky next time.”

                Jake said nothing, but tried to give a ‘what can I say’ sort of shrug. The ninja scoffed.

                “Perhaps next time I will cut off your limbs, mount you on my wall, and fuck you whenever I wish.”

                The photographer swallowed hard, and the hairs on the back of his next stood on end. The ninja dragged his finger across Jake’s chest again, this time swiping the leftover blood across the photographer’s lips. He recoiled, but kept silent.

                “ _Sayonara, gaijin_ ,” the ninja hissed, then leapt to a rooftop and disappeared into the night.

                Dazed and exhausted, Jake slowly gathered up the remains of his pants, and tried to figure out a way to get back to the hotel without exposing his bare ass to the rest of the city.

+++

                “Where have you been? You should have returned hours ago,” Hanzo Shimada spat as the black, gleaming form of the thing that had once been his brother landed on the compound terrace. Genji stood up and calmly walked inside, his stride only a little wobbly. “Did you at least finish your mission?”         

                “Of course.” The masked ninja reached into a pocket and tossed a series of data discs to his brother without looking at him. Hanzo was examining the discs when the smell hit him.

                “What is…what have you been doing?” he demanded. Genji ignored him and walked further back into the syndicate base. A little white glob of spunk slid down his leg and onto the wooden floor.

                “I took a detour on the way back.”

                Fury welled up within Hanzo, and it was all he could do not to crush the discs.

                “You bring dishonor on this family!”

                Genji stopped and looked back just enough to see Hanzo fuming over his shoulder.

                “This is not a family, _brother_.” He turned and continued back to the grand staircase that led to the living quarters. “If you are dissatisfied with the way I accomplish my missions, perhaps you could send another squadron of father’s men to kill me. I’m sure the seventh time will be the charm.”

                He disappeared up the stairs, leaving his older brother seriously considering the idea.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I just got Genji's Oni skin, and was pretty inspired by it. I also headcanon that Genji has a synthetic vagina anyway, so I decided to toss that in; I mean, look at his in-game model. He's a Ken doll. Where's he gonna hide his dick? Is it an internal thing and it pops out? Who knows. That being said, this is probably about as 'extreme' as I'll go as far as violence and blood in a piece of smut. There were parts of writing this that I was actually a little bit uncomfortable with, but I figure that Evil Genji is a creepy motherfucker anyway, so it worked.


End file.
